Slut

It never occurred to me that anyone could ever think I was a slut. I guess all this time I've just been terribly wrong. Teenagers these days are brutal. Apparently, I can be a virgin and still be a slut. But how?...

I don't kiss random guys.

I don't sleep around.

...unless you count that time that I was so wasted I blacked out and woke up half naked in bed with two guys...

I don't flirt with everything that has testosterone.

...not intentionally at least...

And who the hell made up that rule that only sluts wear lipstick?!

Where am I going with all of this? I guess what I'm trying to say is that looks are deceiving, but teenagers don't seem to know that. I guess it never occurred to anyone that the reason all my friend are guys is because girls are too bitchy. And has anyone stopped to think that I don't flirt intentionally? Or to consider the fact that I don't intentionally lead on their crushes? That I have low self-esteem and I just need male approval?!

... Oh God, maybe I am a slut.

I Want Your Love

There are lots of things people do for money. They sell their hair. Give away their kids. Work strange hours. Have sex. Just about anything. And while I'm pretty enough to be a call-girl, I've got too big of a consience and too much love for my boyfriend. So I babysit. I watch kids. Any day of the week. as long as I'm awake. It's pretty good money. And kids are simply hilarious!

I guess you're all wondering what the hell I'm trying to say. I'm wondering what the hell I'm tryna say. Remember my first blog? I think I touched on how I would try not to blog if I had nothing to say. But I need to vent. I just have nothing to vent about. And that's just it. I have nothing to say because I'm feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing. Well I'm hungry and tired, but I have no emotions.

So what the hell is wrong with me? So what if I'm not feeling anything. But au cotrair my readers, that's when I'm at the most risk. it's when I feel nothing that I realize how much I don't fit in. How much I need to cut. How much I need to starve myself. Because I need SOMETHING. Anything. I wish I could feel things like hurt or love or pain. pretty much anything.

Oh wait. I feel it. An emotion. It's. I don't know what it is... I guess I can call it longing. Longing. It has an emptiness to the word in itself. Like me. I'm empty. As empty as a beer bottle after a game of football. I'm empty and needy. I've been trying to fill that need with everything from food to self-torture to conjuring up a life that doesn't exist. But now I realize that all that I'm longing for is love. Were to find it is another mystery.

Ana

I leaned on her shoulder, crying silently at first, but after a measure my silent cry turned to a raucous wail. I'd had enough of everyone's wounding venomous words. I could hold it in no longer. And she held me there as long as I needed her to. She did not demand anything of me. She only took what I had to give. Never more. But also never less. I called out her name in the dark of night and she heard my cry. She anwsered swiftly. Ana ran to my side. Removed all the excess until all there was, all there is, all i want, is she and me. Until I am in her, and she in me. In my head she rests now. She whispers quietly into my ear. Ana lulls me with her lullaby, making promises of tomorrow in my head. She sings to me, "I am your butter and your bread; the voice that's in your head. I will take you in and fill you up with a lack of being fed. I will give you happiness. All you have to lay at my feet is the very thing that keeps you alive. You will die for me, my love. We are one mind. Where one of us lives, the other perishes." And as I listen to death's song, I smile. Ana, whom promised to give me everything, has left me nothing. Nothing but a skeleton. I am happy. She loves me.

Can You Guess What I'm Talking About?

Let me love you in ways I don't know how to.
Let me hover in your stormcloud.
Let me control it.
Allow me to send it away.
Let me wash away those feelings
That make muddy your dreams.
Allow me to wreak sweet havoc in your troubled mind.
Let me give to you what you've been longing for.

These are the promises that it speaks to me.
Promises that I know it cannot keep.
So why do I swoon
Every time a new one is made?
Because although it speaks sweet nothings,
It speaks at least something to my heart.
It's the child of my heart.
It gives me what I'm longing for.

Twice In One Day

Well I've kinda been neglecting you so I'll post about something I was talking about with one of my chicas. There's this quote from Robert Fulgham that says, "When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join them in mutual weirdness and call it love--true love." I really think he hit on something there. And not only does it apply to love, but pretty much relationships in general. How many of us hate the girl at school who has everything?

And then all of that got me thinking of how the subject of normality is so controversial... I know it's a jump from that quote, but what the hell does that word even mean? What in the world is normal? Most of us teenagers are so caught up in fitting in, when in looking at it objectively, we would realize that we all do. Think about it. No one is perfect. We all have our own little quirks and hang-ups. We're all freaks in our own way. All of us. The girl that pretends to be perfect, the one who seems to know everything, is always the girl with almost no friends. She's always the one who can be in a crowd of people, all singing her praises, and feel like there is not one person she can trust. That's because a lot of the times the fact that we're copmpletely crazy is what attracts people to us.

Though I'm not one to give advice, none of us are as alone as we think. There's always someone out there who feels our pain. I believe that ainthe end, mutaul weirdness is what makes our hearts and mind feel at home. Hell, the very idea that someone could be normal is a conspiracy! What sets us apart binds us together. Up until a few days ago I had no idea what that meant. But now I think I've got it. The cookie-cutter example of normality does not exist. And in reality, we're all just floating around looking for something or someone that makes us feel like we belong, whether it be a lover ort a friend. What makes our hearts warm is knowing that there's someone out there whose freakiness is compatible with ours.

So in light of all of that, if you still have some weird need to be normal just phrase it this way. Anyone that has no problems has a problem. They're one in a million... Quite frankly, they're zero in a million. Beauty lies with The beauty in a rainbow lies in the different colors so different, but yet the same in that they are each unique. If you have a want to call yourself normal, think of this. We're all freaks. So being a freak is perfectly normal. Rest. You're not alone.

See How Strange I Am?

I've been doing really good with the whole not cuting thing. And the other night when I got the urge to do some 'artwork', I stopped myself and examined the why. I wrote it out in my journal. I gave it thought but I also let it be raw. I needed to justify the things I did. I needed to remind myself that I had a reason. That I wasn't just kukoo-bananas. And after it all, I didn't need to cut. So here's what I wrote:

S.C.F.

I carve his initials into my wrist. He is my forbidden love. I have to hide. But this is my way of giving myself to him. And of letting our secret subtly into the open. He doesn't see it that way. I suppose he thinks it's quite rediculous. I agree with him. But when I see the blood, its as if every memory I have with him is channeled. They are like ribbons, now intertwined with the red in my head. So that every time I see blood streaming helplessly yet unashemedly down my arm, I will see his face; feel his touch. His lips against mine. The tingling sensation I feel when our tongues dance. Our skin touching. Even the rush of fear the time I smacked him. Different yet all the same because of the link my blood has allowed me to create.

S.C.F

With these three letters I sentence myself to a lifetime of torment. A branding that will ever remind me of my secret love. It is the only way I am able to express my love for him--or anything else for that matter. The only way that leaves everyone else out. And so I have come to crave it. Blood. That and anything that goes along with it that let's me express my feelings, both mental and physical. The sting. The rush. The throbbing. I crave all of it. I see it in my dreams. I smell it when I close my eyes.

S.C.F.

Those three letters that will be there... Forever... A tattoo of sort.

I'm Still Breathing But I've Been Dead For A While

... I love making titles. It's fun! This one's from a Katy Perry song and it's sooooo true. I feel like all the life's been sucked out of me but by some chance, I'm still here. The question is: Is there life after love? I guess there is. I mean it's a helluva lot harder but I'm still here.


Not much has changed. I'm still grounded and will be for the forseeable future. I may never get my phone and computer back, but I'm okay with that now. This week has been pretty okay. I got to hang out with my friends all week. And although I didn't get to *talk* to him, I got to see my boyfriend... The only thing is that I miss my online friends... So Peach and Ahmed and Kathykinz, if you happen to read this, I'm still alive babes :)

Saying Goodbye

My boyfriend is moving to Holland! And I'm in a helluva lot of trouble! What else is new? Just about everything under the sun has changed since the last time I blogged... Everything except for the fact that I'm madly in love with my sweetie! I don't know how this is gonna work out, but it will! I refuse too give up on something tht just started. Five months ago, I was a completely different person. I've changed. A lot. Mostly for the better, although many would disagree with that statement. The point is that there is no way in hell that I can go back to the way it was before. And the thing is that I'm not sure I would go back to the old me even if I had the chance to do so.

Part of my English exam yesterday was to write two paragraphs on something involving how my year was. I chose to write about the hardest part of being a freshman. Schoolwork didn't make the cut. Neither did boys or even eating disorders... The hardest part of being a freshman was growing up. It's hard growing up and at the same time, staying true to yourself. Hell, it's damn near impossible in my book! But somehow, I survived being a freshman. And I will survive the next three years. I will. I will.  I will!!!

I'm gonna miss him, though. Like I'm going to miss being able to see him. I'm going to miss his voice and omg! I'll die without being able to look into his eyes or feel his touch. But I know that I can't die. I promised him that much and I intend to keep my promise. I intend to keep all my promises. I guess in the end, this will work out the way it's supposed to be. Hey as long as God's on the throne, I'll be okay. But I'll miss him so much. Guess I'll just have to grin and bare it for a while... For three years.

The Three Very Cute Reasons I Might Never Reproduce

Let me start off by saying that Myles, Brandon, and Dillan are the sweetest little boys on the planet. I love them dearly. But they are extremely loud. However, Dillan is the most quiet. In fact, he almost never makes noise. He sleeps a lot. Sleep. Poop. Cry. A never ending cycle. But for the most part, he sleeps. I want a kid that does stuff... My fish all died because they weren't interesting enough for me to take care of. My sister still refers to me as the 'FK'. FK stands for 'Fish Killer. Wouldn't want my kid to suffer the same fate! This is a picture of Dillan sleeping in his carseat on the way to the mall:

Brandon, who recently turned two, is my favorite little Tanksley. He's such a sweetheart. Don't get me wrong, he's loud and rambunctious, but just when you're about to explode, Brandon always does the cutest thing. It's sad really. I think he know's that he's cute and uses it to his advantage. He has the funniest little smile and the most mischievious little eyes. He also has the sweetest spirit. He's gonna be the heartbreaker!

And then there's Myles. Myles is five. Myles is loud. Myles is rude. Myles is sassy. He is also a cutie. However, he gets away with a helluva lot less than Brandon does. I feel bad for the poor kid but after a certain age certain stuff just isn't cute/funny anymore. It's actually quite annoying. Provoking even. But I try to keep in mind that all he wants is attention. If I was an only child for three years and then all of a sudden two other attention suckers came along, I'd be pretty obnoxcious too. Poor Myles.

Today was crazy. I didn't go to church this morning simply because I didn't feel like getting out of bed. But then my sister called me and asked if I wanted to go to the mall with Kim, Miss DIana, her and the boys and I decided that it would be better than staying home to count the hours until I saw my sweatheart again. So I got out of bed, took a shower, and got dressed. The half-hour long car ride to the mall wasn't too bad. Dillan and Brandon were sleeping and so Myles was pretty much content. Most of the attention was on him.

By the time we got to the mall, all three boys were awake but Dillan and Brandon were still in that half-sleeping state and were, therefor, extremely quiet. We made our way to the food court and then the noise began. But it was cute noise. Brandon was sorta yelling as he offered me his spitty fries. Gross, but nice gesture so I ate one and refused the rest. Then I went back to eating my tasty dog meat (Taco Bell).

After that, the yelling got louder and louder. I got a headache. Brandon hit his mouth on the steering wheel of a play car. I got blood on my shirt. Brandon ate peace of my biscotti. I got spitty mushy biscotti on my shirt. Dillan drools. I got drool on my shirt. Myles was being his normal self. It drove me crazy.

And that brings us to one of the biggest reasons I'm afraid to have children. After spending a whole day with crazy kids, the last thing I'm in the mood for is hugging or kissing or touching or petting. I couldn't even handle Myles putting his elbow on me during the car ride home. It annoys me. After a day of that, I need space. So if I ever had kids of my own, would my husband and I be the type of couple that has scheduled sex? Like how strange would that be? It would always be like 'Baby, I'm too tired' or 'Sweetie, you're the reason I have these little gremlins in the first place! Back the hell up!' And that, my dears, would seriously suck ass.

Oh and tonight was supposed to be 'special'. My day with the boys kinda ruined that. I had fun, but because of them, I couldn't get a ride to church which basically means I have no way to see my boyfriend until Wednesday. Thanks a lot, boys. I love them dearly, though. I just don't know if I'll ever be able to make those daily sacrafises. I feel sorry for my boyfriend. I'm gonna be with the boys all summer! Good luck, sweetie!

And Friday was my school's banquet/prom thingie... So here are a couple pictures of me... Your royal hotness

Sexting

Sexting is an extremely uncomfortable subject. That's why I'm writing about it. At the end of last summer/the beggining of fall I had a huge crush on this guy. Let's just call him E. I know some people think that race does matter when it comes to the whole 'I like you, you like me' thing. I'm all for interracial relationships (I'm in one now), but not all of them are the same. Needless to say, I'm black and E was white. It all started one day in church when I got this mysterious message from a very mysterious sender. When I found out that the sender was E, I was like what the freaking hell?! Mind you, I'd been in a class with this guy for 2 years. Between all the racial remarks he made and the way he always seemed to find something to tease me about, I thought I was just about the last person he'd ever be interested. I was somewhat right.

E texted me almost religiously. At first I was excited. I'd always thought that he was cute. But little by little I started seeing things that just didn't add up. He would text me 24/7 and even call me on a good day, but he NEVER talked to me in public... At least not around his friends. He'd sneak me these really suggestive looks when people weren't looking but other than that, he would completely ignore me. Naturally I chalked it up to the fact that we traveled in vastly different circles. I don't remember exactly when it first started, but one day he asked me for a picture of myself. The first few times he asked for pictures of me with my bra and panties on but after a while he wanted more and more skin. I was naive and I thought he was the most amazing guy in the world. I always complied.

Sending E those pictures always gave me a sense of power... Until a couple minutes after I sent them. Most nights I cried myself to sleep. I felt worthless and dirty. Mostly worthless because no matter what I did, no matter how much I winked at him, no matter how sexy the picture was, E still refused to talk to me in front of his friends. I think I always knew that E was just using me. I just didn;t want to believe it. And when I finally came to terms with the fact that he didn't want a relationship, I figured, 'Well at least he thinks I'm hot!' I could never, however, escape the feeling of paranoia that came over me whenever a guy at school or church looked at me. I'd immediately start worrying. I never knew for sure if E actually did keep those pictures to himself.

Now I see it as a learning experience. It's definitely something that has made me stronger. I no longer swoon at every guy that smiles at me. And if it ever happened again, I would probably kick E, or any jerk for thatmatter, in the balls and pray to God that the bastard would die! That's why I value my boyfriend so much. He's not at all pushy. He understands that no means no. Hell! He doesn't even bother to ask stupid things!

My Heart

We have to recite a poem in english class on Friday. We had two options: write your own poem, or recite one from another author. I decided to try my hand at what I call extreme alliteration. I hope someone likes it! :P


My heart harkens to the hard harmony
Of his harsh words
Willing me to weep
I willow and wither, writhing
In pain--piercing precious
Will
To love life and liberty:
The liberty to love like a leech:
Extracting emotion and ever extracting
Till time turns to timed ticks on a timer
Repeatedly reminding me of
The lack of love I have for life
When it lacks his love. And the last
Bit
Of will to stay away is wished away
And my heart aches
When he mutters the melody
That makes me melt
And wills me to weep.
I willow and wither, writhing
In sweet torment, sweetly tormenting.
And the will
To love life and liberty
Returns. For the Royalty that resides
In my heart
Reminds me with resounding reassurance
That surely the sun someday will shine
Because
In my heart stays a Savior.

When I Grow Up

Sometimes I feel like no matter what I do, it will never be good enough. It's as if though I try with all that's in me, in the end, i will come up short. You know that saying that's like "you can please some of the people all the time and you can please all of the people sometimes, but you can't please all of the people all the time."? Well that's basically how I feel. No matter what happens, someone out there will always be waiting for my flaws to appear.

Anyways, I promised myseld that I would write to you more often, but life's been extremely hectic. Between soccer, facebook, my boyfriend, and school I have less than no time for you. We've been having back to back games, and I'm always so tired when I get home that all I have time to do is stuff that requires no thinking at all. You, my precious blog, require thought.

So my mother is here in Baltimore. She's vistiting for a bit over a week. She came last thursday; she'll be gone on sunday. There's something about my mum that simply makes me tic. It's in the way she walks, the sound of her voice, the way she pics at almost every little thing that I do. She absolutely refuses to let me be. She lectures. Stiffles. Once in the house, she seems to be omni-present. I literally cannot breathe when she gets too close to me. It's extremely stressful.

And A Week Later I'm Still Here

Hey lovies! So I realize that I've sorta been neglecting you, but hey! I had quite a bit going on. It's hard to balance everything when the tripple s attack matters most. Sander. School. Soccer. So yah I've recently decided that since it's the last quarter, I'm actually going to try in school. So no more Cs... I'm way too smart for that shit. I guess I suddenly realized that mediocrity is just one more thing that depresses me. If I can have an A in all my other classes, why can't I have one in Algebra 1? There's no reason why I can't. This quarter, my aim is at least a B+. And I know I can do it if I try. If I do my homework... So far I've been getting everything in on time so YAY ME!!!

And now for the part of this post where I get all deep:

I have no patience for people anymore. They're time consuming. Energy suckers. All they do is take. Take take take. Draw. Extract. All my emotion and all of my feelings, until all I am is the one thing I never wanted to be: me. They mess around and poke and analyze my head, my brain, and by the time they are done I have no energy to hide from them. Nor do I have the energy to hide from what scares me the most. I scare me. The power I have over myself has to be the most dangerous on this earth. Because I have the power to take myself to heights that no one else has ever imagined. I also hold the power to take myself to depths that compete with the ocean floor. I have created my own heaven. I have thought up my personal hell. I have gained the knowledge that will eventually cause my demise. What pleasures me now will later be used for my torment. All I can do now is sit and wait.

Today Was A Birthday

I woke up this morning, and did the usual Sunday morning crap: I woke up, got ready, and then went to church. And at church I got to sit with my awesomesauce boyfriend! It was absolutely amazing! Not as good as sucking face, but at least I got to see him, right?! It's like every time I see him, my heart skips a beat and I'm reminded of all the reasons I love him. I thought I'd been in love before but now I don't think so. Because it was nothing like this. It wasn't this intense need to be with this one person. Now I realize that it wasn't love. This... This is love. He's my first love. And I know he'll be my last love. Sometimes I just stop what I'm doing to think about how much I love him. Like OHMAGAWD I LOVE this guy!!! I know it seems premature but all I want to do is be with him for the rest of my life!



So anyway, needless to say, I thought my birthday was totally going to suck. Like except for when I'm talking to my boyfriend, I've been wicked depressed lately, and I don't really care about being 15, but today was legit fun. Maybe fun isn't the right word, but it sure as hell wasn't miserable. I think I'm finally realizing that there can be some in between. Like maybe I'm not happy, but that doesn't mean I have o be sad. I think today I was just thankful that I wasn't totally depressed and that brightened my mood a little bit. And I must say that I LOVE my presents. Every single one. And I love all my awesomesauce friends who made today so awesomesauce!

I love how it's my 15th birthday and I look about 13 in this picture! :(

It's a New Day

Today was Easter! Yay! Although I didn't want to, because I hate going to church on sunday mornings, I went to church this morning. And it was pretty okay. I mean, granted I didn't listen and I was texting my boyfriend the whole time and I 'went to the bathroom' during communion, but hey! At least I was there. Even though I was super sad that my lovely boyfriend wasn't there, I got to see my boys (Myles, Bran, and Dill). They were so freakin cute in their matching outfits. All I could think about when I saw them was how I'm gonna buy my kids the cutest clothes when I get older! And how on holidays my hubby, my kids, and I are all going to be matching! I know I'm crazy for prematurely planning all of this, but, dude! That's what I do! I love dressing up and I love dressing other people. Here's me posing in what I wore to church today:

Besides dressing people, I love taking care of people... Kids mostly. I have a serious case of what's some people refer to as the 'mommy-syndrome'. Sometimes, most of the time, it's a bad thing. I don't like constantly having to monitor things that people do, but I like taking care of people because it makes me feel important! That's probably the reason I love Noobzstergail so much!


Onto the down side of easter... I ate so mother-chuckin much today. I ate a disgustingly large amount of the best Trinidadian roti in the world! It was sooooo good and I had this huge plate of it. For those of you that have never had roti, it's basically curried chicken, chick peas, potatoes, and chipati (this Indian bread-ish thing that is soooo freaking amazing). And in the tastiness of this delicious dish lies my problem. Another bit of information for people who don't know: I sorta have a problem with food. No I'm not anorxic. No I don't have an eating disorder... I just don't like feeling full. The one feeling that Americans have grown to love, repulses me. Funny thing is, I love making food, and I love how food tastes; I just don't like how it feels.


So after my roti-feast, I went a step further and had a gigantic slice of the richest gourmet chocolate cake in the world! My grandfather (whom I love) bought it from Wegmans, knowing full well that I would absolutely die after one mouthwatering bite. Yes, readers, he did it on purpose. He knows my beef with food. But the cake was so damned good that I shall forgive him. I'll just have to do a helluva lot of exercising tonight because I can still feel it in my tummy. I want it gone.


So despite the fact that I totally pigged-out, today was a good day. It was absolutely lovely outside and that definately helped my mood a bit. And although there was a foggy haze sheathing my whole day because I didn't get to see the love my life, I got to talk to him. Sleep well, Noobzstergail. I won't be killing myself anytime soon if life continues to go the way it's going.

I Am a Spring Flower

I just realized how much I've changed in the past two to three months. I'm essentially the same person, but I'm way different. A couple months ago, the very idea of love made me want to gag. Now I'm consumed by it. A couple months ago, I was agreeable just for the sake of keeping the peace. Recently I say whatever's on my mind. And although I know that basically every adult in my life would probably disagree with this statement, I'm way happier than I was three months ago. I mean, yes, there's my newfound thoughts of suicide and my random fits and my renewed bloodlust, but those are all conditional things. Before I was just depressed and lonely basically every second of every day and there was nothing I could do to change that. My life was cloudy, now it's sunny with a chance of light showers. No longer do I dwell in a spirit of depression, I'm just depressed. It's no longer something that defines me, but a state that I slip into at the hands of others. I don't know if this is a medically correct term, but I call it conditional depression. It depends on the actions of others that affect me.

More and more I am learning ways to get rid of my depressin. I've realized that it's something that I can change, not something that should change me. I refuse to sit around and wallow... If I am depressed, there has to be something out there that will change my mood. Whether it be music, my boyfriend, cutting, soccer, or exercise, I am trying to find things that make me happy. Even if the happiness is momentary, I'd rather be happy for a couple minutes than to be depressed all 1440 minutes of the day. I refuse to believe that anyone can be happy all the time, but I also refuse to be depressed all the time.

I Want My Fairytale Ending

So although I do not usually agree with my doctor, I suppose she's right when she says I have problems. But while I acknowledge my problems, I also acknowledge the fault of others. There was a point when I thought that I was the worst person God ever put on the face of the earth. After much self-assessment, I have decided that there are much worse people out there. I mean, a clinically depressed cutter who gets in trouble for kissing in school is not so bad when lined up with a homicidal maniac or a serial rapist. But everyone looks at me like I'm crazy because instead of inflicting pain on other's, I prefer to keep it to myself. And it's not that I'm more screwed up than the typical teenager, I just happen to like the color red. It's not like I'm  a loner, I just prefer not to have other people's thoughts filling the air around me. It's not like i'm trying to be an absolute brat, I'm just tired of obeying rules that make me miserable.


Appearently I'm not supposed to believe it when a 17 year old guy tells me that he loves me and he wants to marry me and have kids with me and live happily ever after. I'm supposed to be the level-headed one. I'm not supposed to believe in fairytales. Maybe when I get older I'll succumb to the cynicallity that seems to come with age. But for now, I would much rather possess the fickle, flighty, easy to love spirit of youth. I want to feel free to love and be loved. I absoulutely love the way my heart flutters when I behold the face of my beloved love. And if he's lying about loving me, God forbidding, I'd much rather believe the lie that brings me joy and deal with the consequences later. And, I might add, I love my boyfriend with everything in me. I believe him and I will until the day I die. Anyone who has a problem with that should back the f*&k off of my fairytale!

What My Doctor Calls a Case of the "Fuck-Its"

So i have a serious case of the eff-its... I don't care anymore really. There are times when I scream and kick and cry, and then there are times when I really just don't give a rat's rear. Like right now i am tired, stressed out and irritated. I've screamed so much that my throat aches, and my tears no longer fall because I'm all cried out. Here I sit with no way to show my emotion. No way other than to sit. And be. Breathe. Blink. Swallow. Repeat. The brain that God gave me is no longer equipped to handle very serious affairs. I go hysterical at first ear of bad news... I laugh. I laugh because I wish that I could cry. I find myself drawn to sharp objects, seeking relief of any kind. Just wanting to feel anything. So the pain is welcome. Actually the physical pain does not hurt anymore. It tickles. And I laugh. Or sometimes it stings. I flinch. And when the red emerges, I am all smiles. Red happend to be my second favorite color.

But let me brighten things up a bit. I'm not always this way. There are times (very short periods of time) when I am unbelievably happy. I have amazing friends and an amazing boyfriend. And although I would love to say that my family is fraught with assholes, they can be pretty damned lovely at times, too. You just have to get them on a good day.

So this was on Sunday... You know--the one that just passed. So this is my sister, a friends little boy, and me. Isn't he such a cutie? He absolutely refused to give me kiss just because I got a hair cut! But he's a little genius... I love him. He's my little Brandon-Boo! Um in case you don't me, I'm the puckering fool on the left. My evil big sister (God i love her) is the one on the right. It was the most beautiful day outside. The best this year! So spring is here... Hopefully it does a bit to cheer me up, eh!

Rule #2... Attend Choich

It's 10:14 on a sunday morning. The sun is bright outside my window; I can hear the birds chirping. It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood... My house is quiet, its only live companion being myself. Everyone else in my family woke up early, got ready, etc. I on the other hand rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, turned on my netbook and my cell phone, and then climbed back into bed to write to you, my precious blog. I see nothing wrong with that. My family does.

I'll not try to seem like I like going to church at all... ever... The only reason I go to church is to see friends. It's not that God isn't cool, but I just don't like being at church. I get nothing out of sitting and listening to people talk for an hour and a half. It's not like I actually listen when I go so why should I go?

The answer my family has given me: "Because it's the right thing to do." Right for who? Not me. And if I'm going to church just for the hell of it, what purpose is that truly solving? None at all.

Sorry for this... I felt the need to vent.

Suicide

So about once a week I have serious thoughts of suicide. Like really really serious thoughts of suicide. Here's the irony of this fact: I was once in a chatroom and a girl that was about to kill herself came in... This girl was part of a group of us who were frequent to said chatroom. Everyone loved her. This girl was your classic sweetheart. Anyway, she came into the chatroom to say that she loved us and needed to say bye to us all. She kept stressing that she loved us dearly, she was sorry to be hurting us, she could no longer live, however, it was her time. She said this over and over again. And I remember thinking to myself, "If she loved us, she would not be doing this." Now I realize how beautifully naive I was back then. I now know that every day that God gives me breath, I am doomed to feel the same torment she felt before she took her life. The agony over how the loss of your life will affect others. But unlike my friend whom I loved dearly, I'd rather live in constant emotional torment than pass that torment on to those I leave behind. For now. I feel that way for now. Sometimes it changes. And when it does, the world shifts and death is no longer feared, but an event, a coming of age if you will, to be looked forward to. I pray to God that the next time I think of suicide, I'll think of the ones I'll leave to grieve me, and decide it's not worth it.

I Miss Him

Just about three weeks ago, my boyfriend got expelled from school and I thought I was going to die. Three weeks later, I'm still going crazy without him. I imagine him leaning against my locker all the time, only to reach out to touch him, and feel nothing but the unfriendly metal of my locker door. I hear his voice whisper to me, sweet nothings that give me chill after blissful chill. I feel his arm curl around my waist, but when i turn to greet him with a kiss, he is not there. Being without him is something I can no longer take, but will have to endure for the rest of the school year.

Hi =)

Hello and welcome to my blog. Allow me to introduce myself. As far as it concerns you, reader, my name is Amver Kewl. It sounds lame, I know, but I happen to like it. Amver Kewl has a sorta ring to it. And it's much cooler than my real name.

My decision to start this blog was about as random as all my other decisions. I was browsing youtube and then all of a sudden it hit me. Less than 1% of the world will ever know my name, will ever care that I exist, will ever hear my voice. Less than one 1% of the world would bat an eyelash if i ceased to exist. I am truly just a little girl in a big scary mansion. What I know seems like much, until i step into another room. That is when I realize how insignificant I truly am. And well writing to myself (because I'm sure no one reads this) makes me feel a tad bit more important.

I've been told that I'm a pretty good writer. I know of myself that I'm an AMAZING writer when there is a purpose to my writing. Other than that I just tend to ramble. And don't we all hate writing that rambles?... I can't promise that mine won't, but I hope that overtime, as I get more used to bloggong, my writing might evolve into something actually worth reading.

What will you read in this blog?

Well reader, you will read whatever I feel like writing. Some days my writing will be like journaling, other days I may go on and on about one specific thing that I decided to obsess over. I do that a lot. I love researching things. Gaining knowledge outside of textbooks is what I consider actual learning. And good Lord do I love to learn! There are many things that I don't know. And even though I don't know them, I do know that I want to know them and the pursuit of this knowledge is what keeps me from going crazy. I want to know everything there is to know. About the world. About people. Especially about myself. And I'm glad you've decided to join me in my quest. Enjoy!